


Bento Box

by eternal_octopus



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Hopeful Ending, Love Letters, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27933091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_octopus/pseuds/eternal_octopus
Summary: After a turbulent two weeks during their summer tour, when they'd frequently gotten into stupid fights about all sorts of unimportant little things, Chanhee had written Changmin a letter. Mostly it had been to apologize, but also to explain his feelings, to reassure Changmin he still loved him just as much as always. He'd tried to find the time to say it out loud, but even when they'd manage a few minutes alone, he'd never been able to find the right words.They've been writing to each other ever since.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: Die Jungz Fest (R1)





	Bento Box

**Author's Note:**

> Bingo Card 09 "Queer Over the Years", Prompt "Benjamin Britten & Peter Pears"
> 
> //
> 
> My beta (and girlfriend), Joy, is my absolutely hero. She makes everything I write ten million times better, holds my hand through the editing process, and is generally the most amazing person ever. I can't thank her enough.

It's late by the time they finally wrap rehearsal, almost 2AM, and they have an early call again tomorrow, so they need every second of sleep they can get. Chanhee knows this. But he's been waiting _hours_ , since they took their lunch break, to read the note Changmin slipped into his hoodie pocket when no one else was watching.

They've been doing this since last summer, writing each other notes, sneaking them into each other's pockets, passing them stealthily when sharing bottles of water. Before that, they'd been able to get time away from the others more often, found moments to whisper secrets and sneak off long enough for a few hurried kisses.

Things started to change when they won their first music show. Drastically. It was mostly for the better, but, with all the opportunities that started coming their way, the busier they got. Which meant finding time for intimate escapes became nearly impossible, and, with so many more eyes on them, made messing around at all much more dangerous.

Chanhee's pragmatic. He's learned to be that way, having dealt with the ups and downs of the industry and how cruel people can be. He's worked hard his whole life to come across as a strong person, someone who isn't hurt by the things people say, who's tougher than he looks.

It means he can usually look at things practically. Their group is getting more popular all the time, more successful, with more people watching; it's worth having to be more careful, to sacrifice some of the indulgences he and Changmin used to enjoy when there was more time and less scrutiny. It doesn't mean he loves Changmin any less, doesn't feel any less loved in return.

But Changmin doesn't work the same way. He needs frequent reminders that they still mean something _more_ to each other, that Chanhee's feelings for him are different than his feelings for the rest of their members, that the love they share is deeper. That he's special to Chanhee.

After a turbulent two weeks during their summer tour, when they'd frequently gotten into stupid fights about all sorts of unimportant little things, Chanhee had written Changmin a letter. Mostly it had been to apologize, but also to explain his feelings, to reassure Changmin he still loved him just as much as always. He'd tried to find the time to say it out loud, but even when they'd manage a few minutes alone, he'd never been able to find the right words.

They've been writing to each other ever since. Sometimes they still do it to apologize when they unintentionally hurt or neglect each other, but a lot more often it's something much sweeter, little notes to say 'I love you' or 'I miss you' or 'you look really cute today.'

Changmin's a lot better at it than Chanhee, seems to know exactly what Chanhee needs to hear at the times he needs it most. Some days it's dorky jokes or silly pictures, others it's heartfelt declarations of love or even tender, romantic poetry. And of course there are the _sexy_ letters, the ones that leave Chanhee so flustered he no longer risks reading any of them until he gets home, not after the one time Sangyeon actually felt his forehead to see if he was running a fever.

Tonight the note stays hidden until Eric's turn in the bathroom, tucked away safely in Chanhee's hoodie. Once he's alone, Chanhee climbs up to his bunk, tucking himself into the back corner of the bed so he's facing the door and will be able to see the second Eric comes back into the room. Only then does he pull the note from his pocket, carefully unfolding the neat little square.

It isn't a very long note, but it's peppered with cute, hand-drawn hearts and exclamation points, the style endearingly, recognizably Changmin's. Chanhee's heart squeezes in his chest with how adorable it is before he even starts reading, feels warm and happy just holding it in his hands.

Taking a breath, he pulls up his knees and presses the letter against his thighs, finally settling in to read.

> To. ♡ Chanhee, my beloved boy ♡
> 
> Hello my Chanhee~~~ I had to write you this letter because you looked so so cute this morning when I saw you sitting in the living room ㅠㅠ You were so sleepy and your hair was messy... it was so adorable I thought my heart would burst!!
> 
> Aaah I wanted to kiss the pillow lines on your cheeks and your pretty pouty lips so much ㅠㅠ But I couldn't because everyone was around ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ Such injustice in the world!!!!!
> 
> Manager Nim is yelling for us to get to the van so I have to hurry and finish this up ㅠㅠ I miss your kisses so muuuuch ㅠㅠ I hope we can sneak away soon, even just for a minute~~
> 
> I need to kiss you!!!!!! Soon!!!!!!
> 
> My perfect, beautiful, wonderful, lovely Chanhee~~ I'm always thankful for you every day~~~ Let's stay together forever!! ♡ I love you ♡ I love you ♡ I love you!!!!!!!
> 
> By. Changmin, your boyfriend who loves you so so so so much ♡♡♡♡

Chanhee tries to be practical, regularly hides his real, raw emotions behind cutting remarks and dry humor. He can be judgmental and impatient and prickly, doesn't always like showing affection or receiving attention. Before Changmin, he'd never really had a best friend, and sometimes he's still not sure how their personalities work so well together. But they do, perfectly, and Chanhee loves Changmin so, so much.

He rereads the letter again, thinks about how long it's been since the last time they kissed, the last time they even held hands. Normally, he's happy they still get to see each other every day, can eat together and joke around and share skinship. But reading Changmin's words tonight, seeing all those cute hearts and sweet proclamations of how much Changmin loves him, makes Chanhee's heart ache sharply with longing.

He probably doesn't have time to write Changmin something in return tonight, not when Eric will be back any minute, when they really should go straight to sleep. But he might have some time tomorrow morning, or, even better, maybe he can catch Changmin when they first get to the rehearsal space and drag him into an empty room somewhere, even for just a minute, long enough for one or two quick kisses.

Mood brightened by his plan, Chanhee refolds the letter and moves to the head of his bed so he can hide it away with all the others Changmin's written him, safe in his little, metal bento box. He's had it since he was little, a souvenir his big brother bought him in Japan, a present chosen just for him. When he received it he thought it was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, metallic blue with a pattern of delicate, pink cherry blossoms printed on it. Back then it was Chanhee's prized possession; he'd immediately turned it into a treasure box, hiding his most precious items inside.

Over the years, the contents have changed dozens of times. Most recently, before Chanhee started storing Changmin's letters inside, it had been Chanhee's hiding place for small snacks he didn't want to share with the others.

Chanhee keeps it in the safest place he can think of, tucked between his mattress and the wooden bottom of his bunk on the side of his bed closest to the wall, somewhere his members would never think to go looking. It's not that he doesn't trust them to respect his privacy; they just don't really have much privacy to begin with. They share almost everything, and it's nearly impossible to claim anything for for themselves, even when they write their names on it. An unmarked metal tin would almost certainly be seen as someone's stash of good cookies or special treats, something way too tempting to ignore.

Kneeling on the bed, Chanhee pushes his hand down under his mattress, searching for the bento box. When he doesn't find it immediately he gropes lower, thinking maybe it shifted some since the last time he took it out a few weeks ago. Still coming up empty, Chanhee tosses his pillow to the other end of the bed and does his best to pull up the end of the mattress and peer under it without climbing down. It proves too awkward to hold the mattress up and try looking under it at the same time, and he can't really see anyway. So, with a frustrated sigh, he climbs down the ladder, then stands on the edge of Eric's bed so he can lift his mattress properly.

The bento box isn't there, not at the head of the bed, not at the foot of it. He'd been annoyed before, a little flushed from the effort of moving the bed around, but now the blood drains out of his face, something heavy sticking in his chest.

He tries not to panic, kneels on Eric's bed to look down between his mattress and the wall to see if the bento box fell on the floor. When he doesn't see it there he pats at Eric's bedding, shoves his arm down so he can feel along the floor, just in case he somehow missed it, but still finds nothing.

His time is running out. If Eric gets back to the room and sees Chanhee going through everything he'll figure out Chanhee's lost something, will probably want to help him find it. And together maybe they _will_ , but then Eric will want to know what it is, why it's so important, and Chanhee's not sure he can make up a lie on the spot good enough to keep Eric from wanting to see inside. Even if Chanhee managed to withstand Eric's puppydog-eyed begging tonight, there's a real possibility the curiosity would be too much for Eric to ever let it go.

Moving as quickly as he can, Chanhee starts his frantic search by climbing back into his bed, digging though all of his blankets and sheets. When that search proves fruitless he hurries back down and pulls open the two drawers under Eric's bed, pawing carelessly through his own before moving on to the other. It doesn't take long to search that one; Eric's is so well organized Chanhee doesn't even have to move anything to see his bento box isn't there.

He conducts a similar search of their closets, looks through the drawers there, too, shifts Eric's perfectly folded piles of t-shirts and slacks aside and pats around behind them. He turns over everything he can get his hands on as carefully as he can to leave it largely undisturbed, which is quite a feat considering both how neat Eric keeps _everything_ and how hysterical Chanhee is growing with each passing minute.

He's near tears by the time he goes through the closet drawers a second time, just in case he missed something. His stomach is tied in such a tense knot he feels like he might throw up; losing this box, the letters inside, is probably the most devastating mistake he's ever made. Because there's no way it's not in the dorm somewhere, and if Chanhee can't find it, the only explanation is someone else already _has_.

Someone else has every letter Changmin has ever written him, every piece of physical evidence that the two of them are together, that they're in love, that they've been sexually intimate. Chanhee can't bear the thought of someone else reading those letters, learning all the stupid, sappy nicknames Changmin has for him, reading about their unrealistic hopes for the future, seeing all the dirty things Changmin's felt brave enough to admit to wanting because he didn't have to say the words out loud.

And it's not just mortifying that someone else will know all of those secret, private things; it could actually end their careers. If the news got out to the public it could tear apart their families, destroy their friendships, completely ruin their _lives_.

Chanhee's not sure where he gets the strength to stand up, how he summons the presence of mind to register the sound of Eric coming down the hall from the bathroom. His legs are shaking as he climbs the ladder up to his bed, his fingers numb on the metal rungs, and he feels dizzy as he drops onto his mattress, just in time for Eric to slip into the room and close the door behind him.

"Hyung?" Eric calls softly, obviously thinking Chanhee might be asleep, and Chanhee closes his eyes, fights to even his breathing. He can't talk to Eric now, won't be able to keep the dread he's feeling from showing in his expression. And if Eric asks what's wrong he's pretty sure he might actually have a total meltdown. Luckily Eric seems to believe Chanhee's sleeping and turns off the light instead of saying anything else, the whole bunk shifting a little a few seconds later as Eric crawls into bed.

It's too quiet in the room now that Chanhee has to lie still, pretending to sleep. Normally he sleeps with a fan on, but he hadn't turned it on before Eric came back to the room and he can't do it now or Eric will know he's not really asleep. It's so still Chanhee can practically hear the way his heart is racing, pounding in his temples, his throat. He searched every part of this room, some places more than once, but he can't stop thinking about looking again. Because it has to be here, it _has_ to; he can't accept that he's lost it, that one of the members has it, that maybe they've already turned it over to their manager or the company executives.

He barely sleeps all night, though he does finally turn on his fan once he hears Eric start snoring. He lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling, the sinking feeling in his stomach growing stronger and stronger. He imagines all sorts of terrible outcomes, their manager telling him to not get in the van in the morning or the CEO showing up at their rehearsal and asking to see him alone. He thinks about the looks on his parents' faces, finding out their son really is gay after all those years of him coming home from school crying after being called just that. He pictures the rest of his members, their disappointment and disgust, their anger.

And, over and over, he sees Changmin's hurt expression, broken and empty, like Chanhee just reached into his chest and brutally ripped out his heart.

Even though he's already awake, he startles when Eric's alarm goes off, shaking their entire bunk. Eric shuts it off, then rolls over in his bed beneath Chanhee, goes right back to sleep.

Chanhee feels terrible, his stomach tight and roiling with anxiety, head throbbing from lack of sleep. He forces himself to go to the bathroom, finally washes his face and brushes his teeth since he didn't get the chance the night before. His reflection in the mirror is about what he expects, his eyes red and swollen, his complexion sallow. He doesn't have the energy to put on makeup so he slaps his cheeks a few times to make them look pinker, puts on a pair of under eye masks so he at least doesn't look like he's getting sick.

He does his best to avoid direct conversation with his bandmates, but it's pretty difficult to completely circumvent ten other people who all share the same space. He lies his way though the morning, tells Hyunjae he already ate breakfast when he tries to hand Chanhee a piece of toast, pretends to fall asleep in the van when Younghoon sits next to him, looking like he might want to ask Chanhee how he's feeling.

It gets easier when they arrive at the rehearsal space and they all have to focus on stretching and then on listening to the choreographers. It's a welcome distraction too; there's so much going on with this performance Chanhee has to funnel all his energy into keeping his feet underneath him and staying out of the way of everyone else while they're learning formations and complicated choreography.

Everything is a blur. Chanhee barely feels human, like he's disconnected from his body that's somehow performing all its required functions without his direction or intervention. When they call lunch break Chanhee has to pull out his phone to check the time, unconvinced it's actually been longer than half an hour since they started practicing.

He feels just as detached when he sits at the long table with his members, holding a pair of chopsticks he doesn't remember picking up. He gets several significant looks when he doesn't move to eat anything, so he laughs, tells everyone he's so tired from dancing he's zoning out. He forces himself to eat a bite every few minutes even though it feels like he's swallowing an unchewed rice cake every time he does. The small amount of food he does eat doesn't sit well in his anxious stomach, and he only manages to keep himself from puking by taking a drink of water every time he tastes bile rising in the back of his throat.

He thinks he's made it through lunch successfully when they all get up to head back to the rehearsal room, but just as he's heading to the bathroom someone catches his wrist, pulls him gently into what looks like an empty classroom. When he meets Changmin's eyes he suddenly remembers a fleeting, hopeful thought from last night, about bringing Changmin somewhere like this to steal a kiss.

Chanhee's stomach clenches and he swallows back a fresh wave of nausea.

"Are you okay?" Changmin asks, worry painfully clear in his eyes, his hands gentle on Chanhee's shoulders.

Chanhee tries to smile even though it feels like the muscles in his face don't belong to him. "Yeah, of course," he says. His voice sounds weird even to his own ears.

Changmin frowns. "You're not," he argues softly. "What's wrong?"

_I ruined everything,_ he thinks. _Everyone's going to hate you because I'm too stupid to keep track of my own things._

"I didn't sleep very well," he says aloud. At least it isn't a lie.

Changmin's frown deepens. He reaches up to cup Chanhee's face in his soft palms, cradling it. It's so tender and loving Chanhee wants to cry, wants to scream, because he doesn't deserve it.

"My poor baby," Changmin says, brushing his thumbs over Chanhee's cheekbones. "I thought you looked a little tired this morning."

Chanhee's stomach churns. "I'll be okay," he says, tries again for a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about me."

"Impossible," Changmin replies, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I always worry about you."

"Well, don't today," Chanhee says, attempting to sound playful. But his tone falls flat, comes out sounding sort of blunt and mean, enough that Changmin flinches.

"Okay," Changmin says, dropping his hands to his sides. He looks hurt, and Chanhee's guts twist with the memory of his tortured thoughts from the night before.

"I'm sorry," Chanhee says, and he wants to reach for Changmin, wants to throw himself into Changmin's arms and hold onto him forever. Instead he just stands there, feeling like he's seconds away from shattering like glass. "I'm okay, I promise."

Changmin takes a breath and nods, but he still looks sad, disappointed. Only Chanhee knows how much worse it's going to get, once Changmin finds out how utterly Chanhee's let him down.

The rest of the day is ten times harder than the morning had been. The lack of food and sleep catches up to Chanhee progressively as they continue to rehearse until he starts to screw things up, forgetting steps and messing up the timing. Everyone is tired so no one seems to notice, at least until Chanhee stumbles on a sidestep and rolls his ankle a little, enough to make him hiss in pain and limp his way through the next few steps.

He thinks he's gotten away without anyone seeing it until he catches Eric's eyes a couple minutes later when the choreographers pause the playback, Eric mouthing, "You okay?" at him. Chanhee nods, gives Eric a thumbs up and a weak smile that must look convincing enough that Eric grins back and doesn't mention it again.

He miraculously makes it through the rest of rehearsal without any more obvious mishaps by fastidiously acting like his ankle isn't killing him, that's he's not ten seconds away from collapsing from complete exhaustion. He's not even sure himself how he manages it, he's just thankful he does.

It's late again by the time they get back to the dorm, sometime after one in the morning, and Chanhee is barely holding himself together, so far past physically exhausted and emotionally drained he can barely muster the strength to drag himself out of the car and into the building. Changmin stands right by his side as they walk the halls and ride the elevator, keeps stealing worried glances at him, and it wouldn't be unusual at all for Changmin to wrap a supportive arm around Chanhee's waist, but the unpleasant tension from before is still there. Chanhee's sure the memory of his curt tone from before is what's keeping Changmin's arms firmly at his own sides.

When they get to their apartment, Haknyeon asks for suggestions of food to order and Chanhee just _can't_ , can't keep standing, can't keep forcing all the fear and worry and guilt down anymore. He turns to the first person he sees – Kevin – and tells him he has a headache, that he's going to lay down. He doesn't wait for a reply or anything else as he hurries to his room as fast as his aching, wobbly legs and sore ankle will let him, climbs shakily up the ladder to his bunk, and crumples into his bed.

Chanhee doesn't really cry, he _doesn't_ , because crying shows vulnerability, weakness, that a person is an easy target. And Chanhee is strong, despite his appearances, he's tough enough to take whatever shitty words people sling at him, to fight his own battles, to withstand anything.

It's just, with this, it isn't only about him, it's not just his reputation or his career. His isn't the only heart on the line.

Laying in a heap on top of his blankets, he feels gutted, empty, like he's used up every ounce of his strength just to stay upright today, and he's had to do a lot more than that. His body is sore from dancing, muscles aching from hours and hours of rehearsal, a real, physical pain.

And then there's everything else. His chest feels like it's been pried open, like everything there has been cut out of him, leaving him hollow on the inside. He can feel hot, wet tears running over the bridge of his nose, down his cheek as he lays on his side, the bedding under his face getting progressively more damp. It's weird because he doesn't even feel like he's crying, doesn't even have the energy to sob, to move his hands to wipe at his eyes.

He must fall asleep because the next thing he knows he feels a hand on his calf, shaking him gently. His throat hurts when he swallows, his neck twinging in protest when he peels his eyes open and looks down to see Eric on the ladder, peering at him from the end of the bed.

"I brought you some soup," Eric says, and Chanhee closes his eyes, wishes with all his might that Eric will just _go away_ , will leave him to sleep for the rest of his life.

But Eric, as Chanhee well knows, is irritatingly, frustratingly stubborn. "Hyung?" he tries again, hand still on Chanhee's leg.

"Not hungry," Chanhee mutters, eyes still shut. _Please, please leave me alone._

Eric sighs, and Chanhee can imagine the frown on his face. "You've barely eaten all day."

"So what?" Chanhee replies, voice quiet but tone sharp.

Eric lets go of his calf, the ladder rattling as he climbs back down. Chanhee holds his breath, hopes desperately Eric will go back out to the living room or _anywhere_ else.

His eyes jolt open when he feels his mattress sag, sees Eric sitting down carefully near his feet. "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice weird and froggy now that he's speaking at a more normal volume.

"You have to eat, hyung," Eric says, crossing his arms over his chest and attempting to look stern. "We rehearsed all day, we have to do the same thing tomorrow," he goes on, like Chanhee's somehow forgotten they're in an idol group currently participating in probably the most grueling competition show ever made. Chanhee wants to snap at him, wants to shove him over the edge of his bed, but Eric's watery, concerned expression is making his chest hurt all over again.

"You'll make mistakes, if you don't take care of yourself," Eric says, the attempt he's making at scolding Chanhee so annoyingly endearing Chanhee momentarily considers throwing something at him. "You'll get hurt," Eric adds, and Chanhee can't stop the weird, guttural sound that comes out of him, something like a cross between a bitter laugh and a sob.

The stricken look on Eric's face makes guilt, sharp and new, twist in Chanhee's guts.

"Are you sick?" Eric asks, sounding almost upset now, like he's on the verge of going for help, or something else equally drastic.

"No," Chanhee replies with a whine, pathetic and miserable. He presses his palms down against the mattress and shoves himself sitting, the weight of his own body almost unmanageable, crushing. "I fucked up," he says, rubbing hard at his aching, swollen eyes.

"Fucked what up?" Eric asks, sounding bewildered.

Chanhee sighs. Eric looks blurry and distorted when he takes his hands away from his eyes. "I lost something," he says, and it sounds so stupid when he puts it like that, but it's the only thing he can make himself say. Eric blinks at him, and he knows another question is coming so he interrupts before it happens, says, "I lost something personal. Something important. And if I don't find it, it could be really, really bad."

Eric swallows. He looks afraid now, probably on Chanhee's behalf. "What is it?" he asks carefully.

Chanhee frowns, opens his mouth to tell Eric there's nothing he can do, but Eric keeps speaking before Chanhee has a chance, his expression sweet, helpful. "If you tell me what it looks like, I'll help you search."

Chanhee's shoulders sag; he's too tired to keep resisting. "It's a little box," he answers with a defeated sigh, knowing it's futile. The box isn't in this room, he's sure, because he already tore it apart looking. "A Japanese bento box, a metal one."

"Shit!" Eric replies and Chanhee's eyes snap into focus on Eric's face. "Is it blue? With flowers on it?"

Chanhee's heart stutters in his chest. He opens his mouth to reply, but Eric's already moving to the ladder, climbing down in a hurry. Chanhee crawls to the edge of the mattress, watches as Eric pulls open his closet drawer.

Chanhee looked in there last night, he remembers. He looked _twice_.

Eric lifts the top two or three t-shirts off the neat, perfectly folded stack on the left side of the drawer, then removes what's underneath, some kind of cloth bag with a drawstring. He opens it, reaches inside, and...

Chanhee's heart jams itself into his throat. In his hand, Eric's holding the bento box, is looking up at Chanhee expectantly. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Chanhee can tell his eyes are wide, staring. His exhaustion is forgotten as he fumbles his way down the metal ladder to the floor, can barely feel his legs as he stands there, hand outstretched. Eric hands the bento box to him, and Chanhee feels lightheaded, euphoric.

"Where?" he asks, his heart racing, fingers numb as they cling to the box in his hand.

"I found it on the floor," Eric replies. "A few days ago when I was making my bed. Like, between the bed and the wall."

"Did–" Chanhee starts, his throat closing up before he can say another word.

There must be something in his expression Eric understands, something that makes Eric respond, saying, "I, um. I opened it, yeah."

The sickly feeling that's been lingering in the pit of Chanhee's stomach all day rises up again, makes him inhale a sudden breath. He tries to remember which letters were closer to the top, what things Eric might have read, but his mind is empty, blanked out by panic.

"I only read a little," Eric says in rush, again like he's reading Chanhee's mind, hands turned upward in supplication. "Just enough to know this was yours. Like, I barely read anything," he insists. "And then I hid it."

Chanhee swallows, his eyes moving between the blue box in his hands and Eric's innocent, terrified face. He has so many questions, but he's way too scared to ask any of them, terrified of the answers he might get.

"Like, I thought it was probably something you wouldn't want anyone to see," Eric says when Chanhee doesn't speak. "But I didn't know where you kept it. So I hid it, and I was going to tell you about it as soon as I could, but..."

Eric's eyes fall to the floor, his expression sheepish. "I forgot," he admits. "Things have been so busy, with Road to Kingdom and everything else, I just..." He sighs, hinges forward in a bow. "I'm sorry, hyung. Please don't be mad."

Chanhee's feeling a lot of things right now, but anger isn't one of them. "I'm not," he says, pulling his arm in so he can hold the bento box against his body, curling his other hand around it too, like he can somehow keep the contents safe by the force of his will alone. Like having it back will magically make Eric forget what he saw.

Silence stretches out between them, Eric still looking like he's worried Chanhee hates him, Chanhee's fears thick in the back of his throat, choking him. But it doesn't seem like Eric's going to say anything else, and Chanhee has to know what Eric's planning to do with the information he has, who he's going to tell, who he's _already told_.

"Are, are you..." he tries, his fingers tightening around the box in his hands. "Are you going to tell anyone?" he forces out, his voice hoarse.

"What?" Eric replies, sounding surprised. "No? Why would I tell anyone?"

Chanhee's heart is pounding in his chest. "Just, it's... Because I'm, because you know I..." he stammers, completely unable to get his thoughts into any kind of order, too afraid to say so many things out loud.

"How is that anyone's business?" Eric replies, and Chanhee wishes he could be more like Eric, either unaware or unafraid of what it might mean to the rest of the members if they found out Chanhee likes boys, is in a _relationship_ with one of them.

"I mean, everyone already knows you guys are close," Eric goes on, which answers another question Chanhee's been too nervous to ask. "They don't need to know anything else. Like, if you don't want to tell them."

"Okay," Chanhee says, because he doesn't know what else to say. He's not sure why, because he does trust Eric, but he doesn't feel as relieved as he should.

Eric sighs, frowning softly. They've been roommates for a long time, but Chanhee never really noticed until now how empathetic Eric is, how much care he takes when talking about something serious and important.

"Hey hyung, will you sit down with me for a minute?" Eric asks after a couple more seconds of silence, moving to sit on the edge of his bed and waiting for Chanhee to join him.

There's still so much anxiety circulating through Chanhee that the request makes him nervous. But Eric's expression is so earnest, he's been so gentle and kind about everything, that Chanhee fights through the instinct to refuse. But he doesn't stop clutching the bento box against his abdomen as he sits, his body feeling stiff and rigid even as he takes most of the weight off his legs.

Eric reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out his phone, scrolls through something for a minute, his attention entirely on whatever he's looking to find. Chanhee can't even begin to guess what's happening now, what Eric's doing or going to show him.

Finally Eric stops scrolling, but he doesn't turn the phone around right away, holding it almost protectively. "You're worried someone's gonna find out about you and Changmin hyung," he says, half a question and half a statement of fact. The sound of Eric saying Changmin's name makes something painful twist in Chanhee's chest and he nods without thinking, totally on instinct.

Eric nods back, then takes a long, deep breath. "I know your secret," he says. "It was an accident, but I know. And I promise I won't ever tell anyone else, I won't, but I totally get why you're scared." He stops again, swallows hard, and Chanhee would swear Eric's suddenly very nervous himself.

He should say something, should make it clear he believes Eric, because he _does_. But he can't make the words come out, can't make himself say anything at all.

"What if we were even?" Eric says. "What if you knew one of my secrets, too?"

Chanhee opens his mouth, closes it, licks his dry lips. "You don't have to do that," Chanhee replies, even as something inside him latches onto the idea, turning it over, finding merit in it.

"But it's not fair this way," Eric insists. "I don't want you to have to worry because of me, okay? And I can make us even."

He doesn't wait for Chanhee to say anything else, to offer any further protests, before he turns his phone around and hands it to Chanhee. It takes Chanhee a couple seconds to parse what he's seeing because it seems so unbelievable, so unexpected.

It's a photograph, a selca, of Eric. Kissing a boy. Not just any boy, but _Juyeon_.

He lifts his gaze from the phone to look at Eric, sees Eric's eyes shifting, his expression expectant and uneasy. "You're...?" he asks vaguely.

Eric nods, then says, "Yes," like he wants to make sure it's clear. "See, so now you don't have to worry," he continues, trying to sound like he's not currently panicking. "Because now you know we have the same secret."

It's weird, because it was shocking when he first saw the picture, but now that Chanhee's considering it, now that there's context, a lot of things suddenly make sense. But, more than that, he feels an overwhelming surge of affection for Eric. He just shared something immensely important about himself, about someone else who means a lot to both of them, just to show Chanhee he's not alone, that he doesn't have to be afraid, because Eric understands.

Because Eric will do whatever it takes to protect him. Including sharing his biggest, most precious secret.

"Thank you," Chanhee says, his voice wavering, suddenly very close to tears. "You, you didn't... But thank you."

Eric smiles, taking his phone back and slipping it back in his pocket. "I could tell you were freaking out," he says gently, reaching out to rest a hand on Chanhee's knee. "I wanted you to know, it's not just you."

Chanhee nods, looks down at Eric's hand. And he realizes, then, that no one has ever done anything like this for him before in his life, has been so completely selfless, just to make him feel better. It makes something squeeze in his chest and he takes a sharp breath, two tears breaking free and skipping down his cheeks.

"Oh no, hyung! Don't cry!" Eric exclaims, patting carefully at the tear tracks on Chanhee's face.

"I'm sorry," Chanhee says with a whimper, his eyes welling again immediately. He's been trying to hold this back for hours, but Eric's gentle confession seems to have finally opened the floodgates. "It's been such a long day and I didn't sleep, I didn't get any sleep..." he tries to explain, his voice choked as the tears start coming unchecked. "I'm so _tired_."

"Then you should sleep, hyung," Eric says gently, wiping at the saline dripping off Chanhee's chin with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Just lay down here and sleep."

"But, but this is your bed," Chanhee argues, the tears making him whiny.

Eric laughs softly, fondly. "It's okay," he says, turning to tug back his blankets. "Come on, lay down," he urges, and Chanhee pulls his knees up, rolling onto his side and scooting up the bed the best he can with one hand still clinging to his bento box, inching his way until he has one of Eric's pillows under his head.

Eric does the work of tucking the blankets up around him, rests a hand on Chanhee's shoulder once he's done, squeezing comfortingly. "Get some sleep," he says, patting Chanhee's arm once before he turns to get up.

"Where're you going?" Chanhee blurts, suddenly hating the idea of being alone, after everything.

"I'm going to sleep in your bed," Eric says, looking back over his shoulder.

Chanhee sniffles, pulls his knees up higher toward his chest. "Can you stay here?" he asks quietly, his voice still a little watery.

Eric gives him another fond smile. They both know this sort of vulnerability isn't something Chanhee lets himself show very often. "Okay," he replies. "Just let me turn out the light."

Almost immediately, Chanhee relaxes. His eyes are still a little wet but they feel a lot less raw when he closes them, listening to Eric as he crosses the few paces to the light switch by the door. He hears the snap of the switch, and a moment later Eric slides into the bed beside him.

They don't cuddle or anything, but just having Eric's presence beside him, the comforting sound of his breathing, is enough to make Chanhee start to drift. It's been an exhausting day, overwhelming, and Chanhee probably has a lot he needs to process, but his heart is finally calm and largely unburdened, light enough that he can breathe again.

He falls asleep so quickly, sleeps so deeply, that the next thing he registers is the weight of an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly, warm breath gusting against the back of his neck. He blinks his eyes open, is momentarily disoriented by the view of the wall from Eric's bed, but the events of the night before come back quickly.

He clears his throat as softly as he can. "Eric?"

The arm around him moves, squeezing him in a hug. "He's in the shower."

Chanhee's heart skips a beat. "What are you doing here?" he asks, filled immediately with warmth and happiness.

"Eric said you had another rough night," Changmin replies, nuzzling his nose into the hair at Chanhee's nape. "He told me I should come cuddle you."

"Oh," Chanhee says, a new swell of affection for Eric making him breathless.

Changmin presses a damp kiss to the skin below Chanhee's hairline. "Are you feeling any better this morning?"

It's not a difficult question to answer; he feels a million times better today, in at least ten different ways. But just saying 'yes' doesn't seem like enough, so he shifts in Changmin's arms, turns over so he can see Changmin's face. He looks sweet and soft, his hair fluffy and eyes a little swollen from sleep, lips chapped from dancing for so many hours in air-conditioned spaces.

To Chanhee, he's the most beautiful person in the entire world. 

Closing his eyes, Chanhee leans in and presses a kiss to those sweet, chapped lips. It's shallow and quick, but it still feels like coming home.

"What was that for?" Changmin murmurs when they part.

Chanhee lets his eyelids flutter back open, stares into Changmin's eyes, can see all of Changmin's love for him right there, as plain as day. Beneath his hip, Chanhee feels the solid shape of the bento box, the tangible, physical evidence of everything Changmin feels for him, and now a reminder of how much Eric cares about and trusts him, too.

"I love you," he whispers to Changmin, and then, silently, he sends up a prayer, a thank you, to God for creating this boy, and letting Chanhee love him. For giving Chanhee so many people to love and take care of him, even when he doesn't always deserve it.

Changmin smiles, bright and beautiful, wide enough to show his dimple. "I love you, too," he says, reaching up to touch Chanhee's cheek, stroking it once gently. Lowering his hand back to the mattress, he exhales a heavy sigh. "I wish we could stay here all day, but..."

Chanhee echos the sigh. "Rehearsal," he says, and Changmin nods, still grinning.

"Rehearsal," he repeats, leaning in to bump a little kiss to the tip of Chanhee's nose before he rolls out of Eric's bed. "Better hurry and get up if you want to eat before we go."

"I'm getting up," Chanhee replies. "Go ahead, I'll be right out," he adds when Changmin lingers at the side of the bed, biting his lip against a smile when Changmin blows him a kiss before slipping out the door.

Once he's alone, Chanhee flops onto his back, pulling the bento box out from under him and holding it up above his face, tracing the familiar cherry blossom pattern with his eyes. Yesterday all he could think was how the things inside this box could ruin his career, his life, everything he and Changmin and the rest of them have worked so hard for over the last two years. Today, his head clear and heart full, he realizes none of it – the hours of dance practice and vocal training, the lost sleep and aching muscles, the homesickness and worry – means anything without the people he shares it with, the people he loves. All the success in the world will be meaningless if the price is going through the rest of his life denying who he really is.

He gets out of bed feeling resolute. It may not be today, but someday soon he wants to tell the people who matter to him his truth.

Until then, he knows it's safe where it is: tucked between his mattress and the bottom of his bunk, in his and Changmin's and Eric's hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
